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The Crust of Bread
December 24, 2013
You and I
Used to be like
Hydrogen and oxygen:
Always together.
You were the polish to my shoes:
You helped me shine.
The eraser to my pencil:
Helping me fix my mistakes.
You, the crust to my bread,
Always wrapped around me,
Protected me,
No matter what.
But lately, we’ve been incoherent.
And I think
Some picky little toddler somewhere
Who despises crust on their bread
Stood stubbornly as their mother
Carefully and patiently,
Using a bread knife,
Cut the crust away.
© Jessica P., Bethel Park, PA
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